


Second First Time: A Vignette

by maybeeatspaghetti



Series: Shameless Whizzvin Smut [23]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Whizzer Brown, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Frottage, Getting Back Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nervousness, Slow Dancing, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Top Marvin (Falsettos), Using chess pieces as butt plugs?, falling back in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27077332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeeatspaghetti/pseuds/maybeeatspaghetti
Summary: Marvin and Whizzer agree to try physical intimacy for the first time after seeing each other at Jason's baseball game, but they're each a little more nervous than they anticipated.———Requested by several anons on Tumblr: "Would you ever write reunion sex? Like when Whizzer and Marvin see each other at the baseball game and get back together?" / "On the reunion sex, I think having them go a bit hesitant at first then being sweet at the end sounds nice." / "Maybe they could dance around each other for a bit before getting more comfortable with each other again."
Relationships: Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Series: Shameless Whizzvin Smut [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850437
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54





	Second First Time: A Vignette

Marvin was trying to suppress the nerves churning in his stomach, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult with each step that brought him closer to Whizzer’s apartment. They’d gone out to dinner together earlier that evening, but then parted ways while Marvin had to go pick Jason up from a movie he’d gone to see with some friends and drop him off at Trina’s, and now he was walking up the steps toward Whizzer’s door, and he wasn’t just nervous—he was terrified. 

They’d seen each other for the first time in two years at Jason’s baseball game a couple weeks ago, and they’d reconnected and tentatively agreed to a couple dates, which had gone really well considering they weren’t really all that good at dating, and at the end of the second one, which had just been them wandering through Central Park for several hours, Whizzer had asked if maybe they could try physical intimacy again and see how it went. They’d discussed it for a while, approaching the subject carefully, considering how explosive and unhealthy their relationship had been two years ago, and ultimately decided that yes, they both wanted to give it another go. 

So they’d met up for dinner at a restaurant of Marvin’s choosing that evening, not necessarily expecting the evening to end in the bedroom, but knowing it was on the table, and after they’d left the restaurant and said goodbye and Marvin was walking away to go pick up Jason, Whizzer had called, “Wait!” and run after him. Giving Marvin a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, he’d asked if he wanted to come over later—Marvin’s stomach had done a very uncoordinated backflip as he’d said yes—and now here he was, standing outside Whizzer’s door, heart thrumming with both anticipation and indescribable nervousness. 

He knocked and swallowed the lump in his throat. Whizzer opened the door; he’d changed into something more comfortable, but Marvin thought he looked even more handsome than he’d looked a couple hours ago at the restaurant. He was dressed more casually now; he had his sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned, and his hair was a little looser and fluffier than it had been earlier. He looked… soft. 

“Hi.” Whizzer’s lips quirked in a happy smile. “Come in.”

He opened the door all the way and Marvin went in. Marvin felt a little guilty as Whizzer showed him around the apartment; this was where Whizzer had ended up after Marvin kicked him out, and it was definitely a couple steps down from Marvin’s apartment—it was a bit shabby, but still nice. Marvin’s stomach swooped and the tips of his fingers tingled when Whizzer showed him the master bedroom, though he thought he did a good job of hiding it. He couldn’t completely pin down the reason he was so nervous; he was in his forties, for god’s sake—he’d had plenty of experience in his life and had no reason to be anxious, and yet he was. 

They ended up sitting on the couch making small talk, a bottle of white wine between them, though they had hardly drunk anything. Marvin had maybe taken two sips—Whizzer maybe a couple more—but it was mostly left untouched. Their hands inched across the space between them until they found each other, and they gently massaged each other’s fingers. At some point, Marvin realized they were talking about nothing—stalling—and was struck by the thought that maybe Whizzer was just as nervous as he was. They’d never worked up to sex before—they’d just jumped on each other when the need arose. 

When it was clear the conversation was fizzling out, Whizzer stood and took the wine to the kitchen—to have something to do, Marvin figured. He was still trying to wrap his head around the possibility that Whizzer was _nervous_. He’d never seen Whizzer ever less than completely sure of himself. He stood when Whizzer was out of the room and walked over to the window and looked out. When he turned around, Whizzer was standing across the room, watching him. He was picking at his nails anxiously and Marvin decided just to ask how he was feeling—if they were going to do this again, they needed to be able to communicate better.

“Whizzer, are you… nervous?”

Whizzer looked up at him, expression completely unguarded. He took a deep breath and let it out quickly. “Yeah.”

Marvin’s stomach dropped. He walked across the room and ran his hand up Whizzer’s shoulder, comforting. He nodded. “Me too.”

Whizzer let out a little laugh and put his hand gently on the middle of Marvin’s chest.

“It’s going to be alright,” Marvin said and Whizzer nodded, though he didn’t look any more sure of himself than before, and Marvin didn’t feel any less nervous either. 

Trying to think of something that would calm them both down a bit, Marvin went to the turntable and searched through Whizzer’s box of records before pulling out a 45 and putting it on. It crackled to life and Marvin went back to Whizzer.

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out a hand.

Whizzer frowned. “We never danced before.”

“We were never nervous before, either. Whizzer, I don’t want to be like we were before.”

Whizzer took his hand and let Marvin lead him toward the middle of the room. Whizzer’s step faltered when he realized the record Marvin had chosen was Dionne Warwick’s “I’ll Never Love This Way Again,” and he gave Marvin’s hand a brief squeeze. That was another conversation they needed to have—Marvin knew he had, beyond a doubt, been in love with Whizzer, but he had no idea of what Whizzer had felt for him in return, if he had even felt anything for him at all. When it came to feelings, Whizzer had always thrown up a mask of indifference, and Marvin had been left feeling insecure about his place in Whizzer’s life, which had made him testy and irritable and easily angered. 

When they reached the middle of the room, Marvin, without letting go of Whizzer’s hand, turned toward him and snaked his arm around his waist. Halfway through the song, he rested his head on Whizzer’s shoulder and they swayed gently in time to the music until the record stopped. They stood there for a moment longer, in silence, still holding each other, until Marvin said, “I like dancing with you.”

“I like being with you,” Whizzer said softly, leaning down to press a light kiss to Marvin’s cheek.

Marvin’s stomach erupted in butterflies. “Why are we so nervous?” he said, allowing himself to laugh a bit. “We’re hardly— It’s not like we’ve never done this before.”

“I’ve never done this before,” Whizzer said.

Marvin sent him a confused look. “You’ve had sex before, Whizzer,” he said, raising his eyebrows. He was trying to get Whizzer to crack a smile, laugh—anything—but he was all seriousness. 

“I meant I’ve never wanted to make sure I don’t fuck something up as much as I don’t want to fuck this up right now.”

Marvin’s heart twisted. “ _Oh._ Whizzer.” He squeezed Whizzer’s arm. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would make me turn around and walk away from you right now.”

Whizzer put his hand on Marvin’s cheek tentatively. Marvin nuzzled into it and kissed his palm. 

“If anything,” Marvin continued, “I’m the one who needs to worry about fucking up. I kicked you out over a fucking chess game, remember? I was awful to you.”

“Don’t pretend like I was a saint, though, either.”

They were both quiet for a moment. 

“I can’t even look at a chess board anymore,” Whizzer said.

“Oh god. I’m sorry, Whizzer.”

“No, not because of that. Because of… well… Remember that time we had that agreement that whoever captured the first bishop got to use it as a butt plug and I played most of the game with a white bishop up my ass?”

Laughter bubbled up in Marvin’s chest and when their eyes met they both dissolved into hysterics. 

“And you pointed out how fitting it was that it was the bishop, since bishops can’t go straight,” Marvin said, wiping mirthful tears out of his eyes. 

“We only ever played it that way once,” Whizzer said, gripping Marvin’s arm, “but I can’t see a chess board now without thinking about how fucking _weird_ we were.”

Marvin leaned his head against Whizzer’s chest, the last of his laughter ebbing away. He felt a thousand times more relaxed than he had only a few minutes ago. “I still have that chess set.”

“I’d hardly expect you to throw it out.”

“I know, but still. It’s a bit awkward to play chess with your son with the same set I used when I stuck a chess piece up your ass.”

Whizzer laughed and sighed. “God. What was wrong with us?”

“A lot,” Marvin said, and he wasn’t really talking about just chess anymore.

Whizzer sighed again, but it was a sad sigh. He put his hand around Marvin’s shoulders and Marvin turned his body toward Whizzer and snaked his arms around his neck. Whizzer looped his arms around Marvin’s waist and pulled him in as close as he could until they were pressed together completely. Marvin pressed his lips lightly to Whizzer’s neck and Whizzer hummed, tilting his head up to expose more of his neck to Marvin’s wandering lips. Marvin started moving up Whizzer’s neck until he was up to his jaw and Whizzer moved down to meet him. There wasn’t much heat behind the kiss; it was mainly to get to know their way around each other’s lips again. They’d kissed a couple times on the dates they’d been on, but they were short and light; while this kiss was light, it was warm and deep and it was beginning to heat up when Marvin finally pulled away. They needed to be on the same page.

“Are you ready to take this a little further?” Marvin murmured, figuring that if one of them didn’t make a move, they would just keep dancing around each other. 

Whizzer took another deep breath and let it out quickly. “Yeah. Are you?” Marvin nodded, feeling a rush of heat to his lower abdomen, and Whizzer wrung his hands together and rocked on his heels. “Hold on, let me go—” He darted toward the bathroom and disappeared inside. Ten minutes later, he reemerged, wearing only a bathrobe now, his hair looking a bit disheveled, but in a way that made it obvious he’d purposely fixed it that way. He walked across the room to Marvin, who had taken off his shoes, belt, and had unbuttoned his shirt halfway. Marvin tugged Whizzer in for a kiss and was surprised at how cool Whizzer’s skin was to touch. As he remembered, Whizzer always radiated heat—so much that it was sometimes uncomfortable to be curled up in what felt like an oven all night.

Marvin parted Whizzer’s bathrobe slightly and it slipped off his shoulders, revealing the expanse of smooth, silky skin that Marvin always envied. He traced Whizzer’s collarbones with his fingertips and lightly brushed his hands over his shoulders and down his chest. Exceedingly nervous, he untied the bathrobe sash with trembling hands and the bathrobe fell open to reveal all of Whizzer. 

Marvin noticed that Whizzer’s hands were shaking, so he brushed his hands over his hips and leaned up to kiss him. In some ways, he couldn’t believe Whizzer was nervous. Whizzer was the most sexually confident person he’d ever met. Hell, within two minutes of seeing each other in that bar the night they met, Whizzer had dragged Marvin into the bathroom and dropped to his knees and given Marvin the best orgasm he’d ever had in his life. And then Whizzer, who was always unapologetic about what he wanted and needed, had demanded Marvin get him off, so they’d ended up in a stall, Whizzer‘s foot propped up on the toilet, Marvin fingering him sloppily until he came. And afterwards, Whizzer had grinned and said, “You could use some practice, but altogether not a bad effort,” as though he were giving him a grade in school.

Marvin’s hands drifted downwards tentatively. In two years apart, he’d forgotten whether Whizzer liked him to squeeze his ass or simply run his hands across it. Truth be told, he couldn’t remember a lot about Whizzer’s erogenous zones—where he liked to be touched and how—and it was quickly starting to overwhelm him—that fear that Whizzer wasn’t going to think he was good enough and leave him—and he pulled his hands away from Whizzer’s body as though he’d been burned. 

“Marvin?”

“I don’t remember what you like,” he said, a bit frantically, backing away. 

Whizzer stepped after him and took hold of his face. “Marvin. I don’t remember everything about what you like either. It’ll come back. And if not, we’ll relearn.”

Marvin took several deep breaths, realizing that they had both been comforting each other in various ways the whole evening—Marvin asking Whizzer to dance with him and now Whizzer holding his face and telling him not to worry about not pleasing each other. It was so different to interact with Whizzer like this. It was soft, sweet—not at all marred by undercurrents of anger or irritation. 

Whizzer’s hands went to the buttons on his shirt. “Can I?” he asked, and Marvin nodded.

Whizzer undid the buttons carefully and turned Marvin around so that he could slide the shirt off while kissing the back of his neck. Once the shirt had fallen to the floor, he pressed his palms to Marvin’s shoulder blades before reaching around and trailing his hands down his chest, over his stomach, to rest on the zip of Marvin’s pants. 

Marvin had never felt like this with Whizzer. He kept coming back to this, but it was remarkable how much they had changed; there was none of the hostility that had permeated every previous sexual encounter they’d ever had, save for that first one in the bar bathroom. After that, they had always wound each other up, fighting, name-calling, goading each other into arguments that always ended in sex. They were being gentle and careful with each other now. 

“Can I?” Whizzer asked, and Marvin nodded.

Whizzer unzipped and unbuttoned Marvin’s pants, but before Whizzer could dip his hand below the waistband of his underwear, Marvin turned to tug Whizzer’s bathrobe off completely before pulling his pants and underwear off himself, and then they were both naked. Whizzer reached out and took Marvin’s cock in hand, feeling it for a moment before giving it a gentle, but insistent, tug. Marvin laughed and stepped toward him, remembering how, the occasional times Whizzer was feeling more playful, he would sometimes grip his dick and pull him in. Those had been the good times. But they had been few and far between. 

Whizzer laughed with him and the hesitancy they had been feeling fell away. Marvin cupped the back of Whizzer’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened. Marvin felt that he could drown in Whizzer’s lips. The chemistry between them—the way their lips melded together, the way their hands danced across their skin, the way their hearts beat in perfect synchronization— _this_ was what made them so good together. The fighting and meanness had just been a distraction, a way to ignore that they were perfect for each other, a way to mask what they really felt. Two years’ distance had softened them both. Maybe Whizzer had realized, like Marvin had, that they’d had so much potential and thrown it away because they were too afraid to drop their masks and just sit down and talk.

By the time Marvin pulled away from Whizzer’s lips and reached for his cock, they were both mostly hard and panting and starting to flush. Whizzer’s cock was warm and heavy in his hand. He wrapped his fingers around it and gave it a little tug. Whizzer sighed. Marvin stroked him gently with both hands and Whizzer closed his eyes and chewed on his bottom lip. Marvin could hardly look away from his face.

Still standing, Marvin got his fingers wet with lube and pressed a finger to Whizzer’s hole. He rubbed it gently and Whizzer made a small noise in the back of his throat and pushed down on Marvin’s finger slightly. Pressed together, Marvin could feel Whizzer’s heart pounding erratically in his chest.

“Whizzer,” Marvin said, stilling his hand. “Relax. Do you want me to stop?”

“Marvin,” Whizzer said, “did you— did you love me?”

Since Whizzer didn’t answer his question, he moved his hand away to curl his arm around Whizzer’s waist. His stomach swooped dangerously low as he belatedly registered Whizzer’s question, so much so that it made him dizzy. He could hardly think.

“Marvin?”

Marvin’s heart was in his throat. “Yes.” It was barely a whisper, but he couldn’t lie, not now. Of course he had loved Whizzer, rough edges and all. 

Whizzer closed his eyes and just breathed. His hand was on Marvin’s hip, thumbing his hip bone. “I tried so hard not to but I loved you anyway.”

Marvin’s chest felt like it was compressing, like it was folding in on itself. They had both loved each other and been so blinded by their own desperation to pretend their relationship was nothing more than sex that they hadn’t been able to lower their guard and have a true, honest conversation, confront their feelings, and address their behavior. He had no idea what to say in return, so he put his head on Whizzer’s shoulder.

He wondered how Whizzer felt about him now. Marvin had loved Whizzer then, but wasn’t sure if he still did now. Two years had passed and distance had made his memory of Whizzer a vignette—faded quite a bit around the edges, but the heart still mostly clear and intact. So no, he couldn’t say he still loved him. But he knew he _could_ love him again, given a little time—he just had to let the faded parts return.

Whizzer took Marvin’s hand from around his waist and moved it lower. “Touch me.” Marvin slid his hand down the curve of his ass until his fingers were brushing Whizzer’s hole again, still stunned that Whizzer had _loved_ him. If he was being brutally honest, he’d never believed Whizzer _could_ love anyone. He’d been so self-absorbed, so flippant about fidelity and commitment, that Marvin had never really considered that Whizzer could or would love him. He’d _wanted_ Whizzer to love him, definitely, but thought it was too much to hope for. 

He pressed the tip of his finger inside Whizzer. Whizzer sucked in a sharp breath.

“Keep going,” he said. He put his hand on Marvin’s face, pressing his thumb lightly against Marvin’s lips. Marvin kissed it. 

Marvin slid the rest of his finger in. Whizzer kept his hand on Marvin’s face as he bent down to kiss his neck.

“I’ll never forget,” Whizzer said, gasping a little as Marvin moved his finger around, “how it feels to have a chess piece in my ass, and I can promise you a finger feels much better.”

Marvin let out a laugh.

“We never talked about that, did we?” he said, pumping his finger in and out in a steady rhythm. “It happened and we never mentioned it again.”

“We were— _ah_ —unbelievable.” Whizzer dropped his head onto Marvin’s shoulder and let out a strangled moan when Marvin pushed another finger inside. “ _Marvin._ ”

“I’ve missed that sound.”

“I’ve missed your fingers.”

“That’s all?”

“And your chess pieces. _Ahh, Marvin._ ”

Marvin laughed, feeling completely at ease with Whizzer now, feeling more like his genuine self than he ever had, feeling happier than he had in a long time. “That really made an impression on you, huh?”

“Well, _yeah._ How—” He interrupted himself to take several gasping breaths. “How often do you get a bishop shoved inside you— _ah_ —when you lose at chess?”

Marvin pulled his fingers out to clutch Whizzer close to him. “I can’t believe we did that.”

“I can. Now shove something else inside me, please. And I want to be on top.”

Whizzer pulled him across the room and gave him a playful shove toward the bed. Once on the bed, Marvin poured a generous amount of lube in his hand and stroked himself a few times to make sure he was slick and ready, then got on his knees and leaned back on his heels, not exactly wanting to lie down and not be able to see Whizzer as well. He wasn’t sure, though, how Whizzer would react to Marvin choosing this position since they’d never done it with each other before, but Whizzer didn’t hesitate—he straddled Marvin and sat in his lap, his knees on either side of him. 

Instead of going straight for Marvin’s cock, he leaned in for a kiss and lazily rolled his hips against Marvin’s, their cocks sliding together gently. This was new—Whizzer hadn’t been one to spend much time on extra foreplay or lavish affection on Marvin, so even though Whizzer had been sweeter and more affectionate so far this time around, Marvin hadn’t been expecting him to continue once he lost his nervousness. Marvin wasn’t complaining, though. Before, he’d always felt a little neglected when Whizzer pushed him away when he tried to cuddle close to him, which had happened fairly often. So this was new. And it was wonderful.

Whizzer’s hands were roaming across Marvin’s skin, touching him almost delicately, almost reverently, and Marvin couldn’t remember him ever being this gentle. He’d always pinched and scratched and clawed his way around Marvin’s body, which Marvin liked—to an extent. There had been days where he just wanted sex to be slow and sweet, but Whizzer refused, saying sex that wasn’t dirty and filthy and rough was a step toward—and he always spat this word with contempt—“lovemaking.” Marvin was beginning to wonder now whether his hatred of “lovemaking” had really just been poorly-masked fear—fear of being vulnerable, fear of falling in love, fear that if he let himself have sex with Marvin in a way that would strip him of the mask he always wore, he’d get hurt. As it happened, they’d both fallen in love and they’d both gotten hurt.

Whizzer lifted up just enough to position Marvin’s cock beneath him. He met Marvin’s eyes.

“Marvin, I’m sorry for how it all turned out,” he said quietly. 

“I am too.”

“I just wish we could do it differently.”

“We can. We are. Here. Now,” Marvin said, dropping a kiss to his shoulder.

Whizzer’s lips quirked in a small smile and he kissed him. He sank down on Marvin’s cock slowly, his lips gradually slackening against Marvin’s until they were simply passing the same air back and forth between them. It was blissful—dizzying—to be inside Whizzer again after all this time. Whizzer murmured something against his lips that Marvin didn’t catch, but it sounded sweet and caring and Marvin felt warmed all over. He tightened his arms around Whizzer’s middle, hoping Whizzer felt as warm as he did.

Whizzer rocked against him slowly, his arms holding tight around Marvin’s neck, their foreheads pressed together, hot puffs of air curling across Marvin’s cheeks. Whizzer’s eyes were glassy and round and open and completely unguarded, and he and Marvin couldn’t look away from each other. He started bouncing a bit in Marvin’s lap, quickening their leisurely pace until Marvin was letting out little cries of pleasure and Whizzer was moaning in Marvin’s ear. 

It felt so good to be together again that Marvin knew that when he felt himself get close, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from coming no matter how hard he tried, so he just let go and let himself get lost in how it felt to be with Whizzer again, not caring whether he came in thirty seconds or five minutes.

He let go of everything that had been weighing on him—all the tension he had bottled up in his shoulders, all the fears he had about not being good enough, all the negative feelings he’d had when he’d first seen Whizzer from the bleachers at the baseball game, all the nervousness he’d had when he and Whizzer had decided to give physical intimacy another try and see how it went. He let go of it all. 

It felt like he and Whizzer were trying to weld themselves together, become one being—Whizzer’s arms were locked tight around his neck and his own were wrapped around Whizzer’s middle. They were completely pressed up against each other, and _moving._ God, it was intimate. You’d think, after not having seen each other for two years, and after having parted so badly, they would have preferred something more removed, something that didn’t require so much skin-to-skin contact, something that wasn’t face to face, but they had only ever faced away from each other during sex when they were really angry, and so Marvin supposed, unconsciously, they had automatically gravitated toward a position that did not have those negative emotions pinned to it.  


It was the same for the extreme touching and closeness—it wasn’t awkward at all, even though Marvin had expected intimacy after two years to be awkward. But they had just… done it. It hadn’t been a conscious decision to choose a position that demanded so much vulnerability. They had just been so nervous before, and they had calmed down by laughing together, and they had both confessed to having loved each other in the past, and somehow all of that came together at the right moment to make them desire as much closeness as possible. It was interesting, Marvin thought, that in the ten months they’d been together before, they’d never had sex in a position that afforded a great deal of affection, but now, after they had essentially become strangers over the past two years, they were completely unguarded, craving affection, and being more physically and emotionally vulnerable than they’d ever been together. 

Marvin attached his lips to Whizzer’s neck, sucking too lightly to leave a mark, but just enough to tease, and whimpered against his skin. One of Whizzer’s hands was now gripping Marvin’s back as he moved, the other was stroking himself, and he pulled his head and neck away from Marvin just to look at him, calling his name in light, breathy tones, punctuated by moans.  


Whizzer came suddenly, spilling over his hand and onto Marvin’s chest. He had never let Marvin look at him when he came before—he had always hidden his face and Marvin had never known why, and he had never asked—and Whizzer could have tucked his head in Marvin’s shoulder now, but he didn’t. He was looking into Marvin’s eyes when he came, and his face contorted into an expression Marvin could only describe as blissful agony. It was the most beautiful, arousing thing he’d ever seen, and thank god Whizzer had stopped moving, because if he hadn’t, Marvin would have come too and missed seeing the way Whizzer’s face just relaxed—the way the tension drained away, the way the lines on his forehead and around his lips smoothed and made him look ten years younger, the way his eyes fluttered closed.

“Marvin...” he murmured breathlessly. 

He kept one hand around Marvin’s neck; the other he wiped off on the bed and put on Marvin’s thigh to give him something to push against as he started moving again. Even though he’d come already, his movements were desperate and he rolled and rocked and ground down on Marvin, and Marvin’s moans were quickening, picking up again after that lull when Whizzer came, and _yes_ , the sight of Whizzer’s face when he came was seared in his memory now and he was so close—“Ah, ah, ah, ah, _ah, ah-ah-ah-ahh-Whizzer!_ ” He came deep inside Whizzer, pulsing thick and hot, his hands pushing down on Whizzer’s hips in some primal, innate need to keep himself as far inside Whizzer as possible. 

Whizzer, so overwhelmed by the sensation, by the show of force to keep him in place, unexpectedly orgasmed again—dry—and clenched hard around Marvin, jerking in his arms, his face a mixture of that blissful agony Marvin had seen earlier and, now, surprise. His legs began shaking so badly that he pushed up on his knees involuntarily, Marvin’s cock slipped out of him, and he went limp in Marvin’s arms, his chest heaving, his body trembling.

“Oh my god,” he breathed. “Oh my god. Oh my god. _Marvin._ ” He clung to Marvin’s neck, breathing shallowly. “ _Marvin._ ”

Marvin ran his hands up Whizzer’s ribs and cradled his head. “Whizzer,” he sighed.

Whizzer pulled his head out of Marvin’s shoulder. The corners of his eyes were wet. “I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he said, taking a deep breath. He ran his hands down Marvin’s neck and across his shoulders and down his arms and up again and down his chest and around to his back. He moved in to kiss Marvin.

Marvin slowly lowered them both to lie on the bed and circled his arms around Whizzer, who, for the first time, snuggled closer instead of, like he would have done two years ago, grudgingly allowing Marvin to hold him for a short minute before pushing him away. He sighed into Marvin’s neck. 

“You’re warm,” he said, and he sounded content. “Marvin, I’ve— I’ve never— Oh god, Marvin, I’ve never come twice before.” He let out a short, bubbly laugh, surprised and pleased.

Marvin let out a little laugh of his own. He brushed Whizzer’s hair out of his eyes and then tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “You’ve never let me see you come before,” he said, remembering the pure bliss on Whizzer’s face—both times. “Why now?”

Whizzer fiddled with Marvin’s hand. “I wanted to.”

“Why did you hide your face all that time? I always wanted to see. It was… It was gorgeous, Whizzer.”

Whizzer smiled softly and Marvin sensed that he was either shy or nervous, though he had no reason to be. “It seemed too… I felt like it was a step closer to—”

“Lovemaking.”

Whizzer cocked his head in surprise. “Yes. How’d you know that?”

“That’s what you said when I wanted to slow down and just… take it easy once in a while.”

“Oh. I don’t remember that. I’m sorry, Marvin.”

“It’s okay. Can we— Can we not spend all our time looking back and wishing we did things differently? Can we just _do_ them differently now instead?”

“Yes, please.”

“Can we agree to communicate this time around?”

Whizzer laughed and trailed his fingers down Marvin’s chest. “Yes.”

“Can we agree on love?”

“What do you mean? Marvin… you should probably know… I’m not exactly in love with you anymore. But I could be again. In time. Give me some time.”

“I can’t say I’m in love with you right now either. I need time too. I meant—can we agree on what it means this time around? What’s expected of us? What we want? Can we agree to try, at the very least?”

“Yes. Please.”

Marvin reached for Whizzer and pressed dry lips to the back of his hand. “Can we talk it all through tomorrow? Now’s not the time, I don’t think.”

Whizzer nodded and pressed his face into Marvin’s neck. “Stay with me tonight?”

“I was planning on it.”

Whizzer yawned and said he needed a shower. As he was climbing out of bed, Marvin grabbed his wrist and asked if he could join him. So they took a shower together—a first for them, actually, as they’d never showered together in all of the ten months they’d been together before—and Whizzer found it incredibly amusing to get Marvin’s hair all lathered up and then blow on it to send tiny bubbles everywhere. It was a miracle they managed to get out of the shower in under forty-five minutes since they both spent a sizable chunk of time messing around; they spent almost fifteen minutes putting soap on each other’s backs and then tracing letters in it with their finger and trying to get the other person to guess what letter it was. By the time they got out, the bathroom was filled with steam and their fingers were pruny and sensitive. 

They put on sleep clothes and went and curled up in bed together. All the hesitancy from earlier was gone, and the only thing they were both feeling now was pure exhaustion. Whizzer flopped onto Marvin’s chest and declared he was sleeping there, and when Marvin woke the next morning to both arms having gone numb and tingly, he didn’t mind in the slightest.

*

It took Marvin all of one month to fall back in love with Whizzer. When it happened, it wasn’t prompted by anything extraordinary. The morning was completely normal. Mundane. He'd spent the night at Whizzer’s, the morning was sleepy and slow, and the radio was on softly in the background, The Commodores’ “Easy” drifting through the room. Whizzer was sitting at the table, cradling a mug of tea and telling Marvin all about something he’d seen the other day. He was smiling, head tilted to the side, eyes sparkling, and something swelled in Marvin’s chest and his heart felt so full it was in danger of bursting.

“...and it was something that’s hard to—”

“Whizzer!” Marvin’s eyes were wide. His emotions were everywhere, but they were all good, all wonderful. Whizzer had told him he loved him just a few days prior, when they were out walking in Central Park and Marvin had almost fallen into the Pond when Whizzer crept up on him and scared him. He’d lost his balance and Whizzer had managed to grab him before he fell, and as they were laughing about it, Whizzer had said it. Marvin hadn’t been quite ready to say it back right then, but he was now, and it was threatening to just burst out if he didn’t say it soon.

“Marvin? Are you okay, love?”

“Th— That's it!” he cried. 

“What is?” Whizzer looked positively bewildered. “Have you even been listening to me?” 

Marvin pressed a hand to his own chest as if he could physically feel the feeling that had settled in his heart. “Love. It’s… love. I love you. I—” 

Whizzer stood so quickly his chair clattered backwards to the floor. He grabbed Marvin’s hand, pulled him to his feet—the tea he was drinking and the story he was telling both forgotten—and enveloped him in the warmest, tightest hug Marvin had ever gotten. Marvin squeezed Whizzer back just as tightly, and the most wonderful feeling of calm spread through him—knowing how much he loved this man and how much he was loved by him. 

Somehow they shuffled into the living room, still clutching each other, and collapsed onto the couch. Marvin ended up being sandwiched between Whizzer and the back of the couch, and they spent a couple hours lying there together, playfully teasing each other, laughing, and just feeling good. 

Their relationship this time around was really good. It was less about sex and more about just spending time together, getting to know each other. Less about who could get the other to crack first and more about comfort and healing. Less about hostility and more about love. Some nights, after Whizzer had fallen asleep, Marvin would run his hand absentmindedly through Whizzer’s hair while he read and Whizzer would make sweet little sounds and, even asleep, lean into Marvin’s touch. They still bickered sometimes, but when it got too serious, too much like the way they argued the first time around, they’d back off and give each other space to cool off instead of goading each other on, like they would have done before. 

They still played chess together sometimes, and had essentially turned it into a kind of foreplay, although they weren’t directly involving the chess pieces; the way they played now was that they had written out a list of rewards for every piece taken by the queen and king, a reward for when the queen was captured, and a reward when the game was won. This gave Whizzer a good incentive to really learn how to play, and several months in, he was getting close to being able to play as well as Marvin, although sometimes he would still lose on purpose just to get to the reward if he was feeling particularly impatient, and this was something Marvin chastised him for but didn’t complain about once he checked the list to see what Whizzer would be doing to him.

Even though they didn’t live together—they decided that rushing to move back in together was ill-advised—they spent most nights together, alternating between Whizzer’s and Marvin’s apartments, and Marvin woke most mornings with Whizzer using his chest or shoulder as a pillow. What they said most often to each other was “I love you,” since they had denied themselves that the first time, and almost a year later, its luster hadn’t dulled at all; Marvin still got the most wonderful warm feeling when Whizzer said it—punctuating his goodbye kiss with it as Marvin left for work or when Whizzer murmured it to him at night after he thought Marvin had fallen asleep. Sometimes they’d drop it at unexpected times, like when Marvin told Whizzer he loved him while Whizzer was puking his guts out from food poisoning—Whizzer had told him to fuck off at the time, but later retracted his statement when he was feeling better—but all in all, saying “I love you” had become so much a part of their routine that if Marvin rushed off to work without them saying it, they both felt off the entire day. 

Overall, Marvin’s favorite moments were when he and Whizzer sat in the living room, each doing their own thing on opposite ends of the couch, Whizzer rubbing his foot up and down Marvin’s calf absentmindedly. They’d gone from strangers to lovers to strangers to partners, and while it had been a painful, rough path to get there, Marvin wouldn’t change a single second of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @maybeeatspaghetti  
> maybeeatspaghetti.tumblr.com  
> Feel free to come ask questions or request things or just say hi!


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